


Welcome back, Severus Snape

by Amorette



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 14:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15820380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amorette/pseuds/Amorette
Summary: Severus Snape is welcomed back into the fold the night Voldemort is given his body back.





	Welcome back, Severus Snape

Welcome Back, Severus Snape

 

Severus Snape apparated into a milling crowd. He was bumped and jostled as he tried to orient himself. Before he was certain where he was, a hand grabbed his upper arm and the elegant voice of Lucius Malfoy, now sounding strained, hissed, "Severus! About damned time!"

Malfoy tugged and Severus followed, taking the time to make certain he was as well prepared as he could possibly be. The sight of the crowd, all dressed in those damned robes, their faces hidden by those hideous blank masks, sent a chill through him. The murmuring of the assembled Death Eaters fell silent as he and Malfoy brushed past. Only his name, repeated like a whisper on the wind, could be heard.

"Ah, Severus Snape."

At the sound of the Dark Lord's voice, Severus dropped to his knees. It was a good thing that such an abject posture was required, for Severus found his legs were shaking. Clamping down on the part of his mind that was screaming in horror, Severus kowtowed before his Master, touching the hem of the the Dark Lord's robe with his lips. Severus remained bent low, as a hand ghosted through his hair.

"Severus." The Dark Lord sounded genuinely sad. "So late to my summons."

"I could give you a thousand excuses, My Lord," Severus murmured, head still bowed, "but none would be adequate."

"True. Look at me, Severus Snape."

Steeling himself, Severus raised his head and met the Dark Lord's glowing red eyes, unable to repress a shudder than ran down his spine. The Dark Lord cocked his head to one side, resting on dry hand against Severus's cheek. Severus felt the touch of the other's mind and let the thoughts he had prepared for this time be revealed. Severus had practiced hundreds of times against the power of Albus Dumbledore but this touch was different, slippery where Dumbledore's was like silk. Severus bit the inside of his cheek to keep from gagging as the memories, some only slightly modified, some completely false, washed over him.

"So, Karkaroff has fled."

"I believe so, My Lord."

The fingers against Severus' cheek tightened, cutting into the flesh under the curve of the jaw bone.

"And the Potter brat?" The Dark Lord's voice was light, as if the question were of no consequence, but Severus knew otherwise.

"Upset but alive."

"And you, my dear Severus, how are you?"

The hand drifted away from Severus' face but that was no relief, for it was the Dark Lord's wand hand.

"At your disposal, My Lord."

The Dark Lord sighed, melodramatically. "You are all such disappointments. Lucius here, claiming the Imperius to save himself from Azkaban."

"My Lord, I had to. . ."

"Crucio." The Dark Lord said it as if the word meant nothing. Behind him, Severus heard Lucius gasp, then fall to the ground. The curse was quickly released, not out of sympathy but because, Severus realized, the Dark Lord's interest was not in Malfoy. "Bellatrix didn't claim to be under Imperius."

Malfoy's voice, panting, replied, "No, My Lord."

"And then there were those who had the means to look for me, to search me out, if they were truly my loyal servants."

Lucius, wisely this time, said nothing.

"Peter here. . ." Severus's eyes followed the Dark Lord's pale hand as it gestured towards Pettigrew. Pettigrew, who was wearing some sort of silver glove on one hand, smirked at Severus. "He hid for twelve years, cowardly little lump that he is."

Pettigrew's smirk faded but grew again, when the Dark Lord added, "But he still had the courage to do what had to be done. You, Severus, you. . ." The Dark Lord's voice faded into a scolding click of the tongue. "Spy, Severus?"

"I have no excuse." Severus was proud of how calm he sounded. 

"No? Not even going to plead your Slytherin nature. You, unlike Lucius here, and the others, had to plan ahead for your excuse. Elsewise, that fool Dumbledore would not have believed you. What did you tell him, Severus?"

Severus shrugged, trying not to shift. The ground was hard and rocky under his bony knees. He pictured himself, rather hysterically, as a penitent monk, robed and hooded, kneeling before his superior.

"Minor things, My Lord. Just enough to win his trust. A few lies about lurid goings-on." Pettigrew snickered. "A few names that I knew he already knew." Malfoy shifted nervously behind him.

"Didn't you trust me to protect you, my Severus?"

"Dumbledore may be mad as a hatter but he is powerful. I just wanted to keep my options open."

The Dark Lord laughed, clapping his hands, his laugh rich and full. "Oh, my dear, dear, Severus. How I have missed you. Crucio."

The curse didn't catch Severus entirely by surprise. He had seen the Dark Lord's hand tighten around the wand he had drawn to use against Malfoy. The pain wasn't unexpected either and felt almost familiar. When it ended, Severus found himself on his hands and well as his knees, panting, just as Malfoy had. It was difficult to breathe under a properly cast Cruciatus Curse and the Dark Lord always cast his properly.

"I warned the others," said the Dark Lord lightly, "that you would be punished before I brought you back into the fold. Have you been punished enough, sweet Severus?"

"Were I in your place, My Lord, I would have the flesh flayed from my bones."

The Dark Lord laughed again. "Gracious! So melodramatic. Still, you are right. You deserve a bit more of a reminder. Lucius?"

Severus met Lucius' eyes for a moment before bowing his head. Lucius had a light touch with a Crucio, if such a thing could be said. The pain wasn't instantaneous. There was a burn, at first, no worse that standing too close to a hot fire, that started in the extremities, then moved inward, growing more intense with each beat of his victim's heart. By the time Lucius was done, the inside of Snape's lungs felt as if he had been breathing acid. 

Severus had no idea how long he was tortured. It might have been minutes or months. He knew that several of his fellow Death Eaters took their turn, some using their wands and some using cruder, more physical methods. He vaguely remembered being annoyed by Pettigrew's laughter while writhing on the ground. He also knew he lost consciousness more than once and was revived. In the end, it all faded into a black pool of pain.

When he started to crawl back out, it was because someone was calling his name softly. With considerable effort, Severus managed to open his eyes a slit to confirm the identity of the person speaking.

"Lucius?" Severus's voice was hoarse from screaming.

"Here." 

Severus's head was propped up and a vial put to his lips. 

"Don't be paranoid," said Lucius, his several faces swimming dizzily in front of Severus. "It's one of yours. I found it in your pocket. Do you always carry pain potions and quick acting poisons with you?"

"Necessary," slurred Severus as he swallowed, having let the sip linger on his tongue long enough to confirm what Lucius said, "to my position."

"Really?" Lucius sounded amused. "Are the poisons to finish off any First Years who annoy you?"

"If only Albus would let me."

Severus sank back, vaguely aware that his head was resting in Lucius' lap. The sky was lightening to the east, heralding a dawn that marked the return of fear to the Wizarding World.

"Would you like me to heal you? You've got some broken bones and, I think, internal bleeding."

"Macnair?"

"Yes. Dear Walden. Man has no sense of delicacy."

Severus felt the magic tingle across his skin. There had been a time, long ago, when the touch of Lucius' magic as well as Lucius' body was as familiar to him as his own. 

"I'm no mediwizard," Lucius said after casting a few spells, "but it should be enough to let you get back to Bumblebore."

Severus, with Lucius' help, managed to get to his feet. They were in a graveyard, the ground disturbed in several places, especially around one particular grave.

"Lovely spot," Severus muttered sarcastically, touching his jaw. It had been broken. As Lucius had said, the man was no mediwizard. Even with one of his own potions in him, Severus still ached in a number of places.

"Yes." Lucius was running a cleaning spell over himself. "Necessary for the revival spell but it does lack something in charm."

"Potter said something. . .Pettigrew slicing off his hand, bones from a grave. That's a nasty bit of casting."

"Quite." Lucius pulled out a pocket mirror and adjusted his hair. The mirror muttered something about a smudge on Lucius' cheek. 

"So, Petter Pettigrew is now the Dark Lord's favorite. Disgusting."

Satisfied, Lucius tucked the mirror away. "For the moment."

Severus turned and looked at Lucius, who smiled back with Lucius' patented courtier's smile.

"I'm glad to see Him back," said Severus slowly, noting Lucius' airy agreement, "but it will change things. We've gotten comfortable, complacent, even, these last few years."

Lucius sighed. "Too true. While I miss the old days, there are advantages to not having to constantly clean blood out of the carpets."

Severus managed a rough laugh. He knew, full well, that it was never Lucius who cleaned up afterwards. "I suppose," Snape said, matching Lucuis' casual tone and knowing it to be equally false, "that our monthly chess matches will have to be postponed."

"Most likely. Narcissa's whist club will no doubt find other things to do besides play cards as well."

"And Draco." Severus said it flatly, as if it were of little consequence. "When will he be brought into the fold?"

Lucius, who was adjusting his cuffs, frowned and paused in his actions. He sighed again, shaking his head. "Tell him, will you, that his father stands at the Dark Lord's right hand once again."

Severus nodded, waiting. Lucius raised his head and stared into the lightening sky. "He is terribly spoilt. Oh, don't deny it, Severus. I know full well how I have indulged the boy. He isn't ready yet to be initiated. He is too young, still too absorbed in his schoolwork and Quidditch and all." Lucius gave Severus a quick smile. "But have no fear, old friend, he will stand beside me soon enough. Although," Lucius clapped a hand on Severus' shoulder, forcing Snape to repress a wince, "with luck, by the time Draco reaches his majority, I'll be the Minister of Magic and Our Lord will be ruling the world."

Severus returned a thin smile. "With luck."

"Up to Apparating back to Hogwart's or do you need assistance?"

Reaching into one of his innumerable pockets, Severus produced vial. "Dose of this and I'll be fine."

Laughing, Lucius slapped Severus' shoulder again. "You and your potions! I'll see you, then. And Severus, for Merlin's sake, be careful around Him. I'm surprised he let you off so easily tonight."

Snape only grunted, busy swallowing his potion. Lucius vanished with a sharp crack. As soon as Severus felt the Pepper-Up Extra begin to work, he Apparated as well, arriving at the very edge of the wards around the school. 

It begins again, he though grimly as he limped across the grounds. Back to reporting to Dumbledore at dawn with blood on his clothing and half healed bones sending pain through his body. Back to feeling the Mark burn. Back to facing death or worse every time it burned. Back to waking in the middle of the night, sweating, heart pounding, as the fear he suppressed all day broke free. Back to the hell he had never quite escaped.

Dumbledore was either up early or hadn't slept. He had tea for Snape, and sympathy for Snape's injuries as Severus began to report.

**Author's Note:**

> Another very old story found hiding on a hard drive.


End file.
